


Echoes (when the sea is muted)

by jezzberry



Category: B.A.P, K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Singing, Sirens, note that I chose not to use a warning, please be aware of that, there is warning-worthy stuff here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 18:03:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4314975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jezzberry/pseuds/jezzberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Be careful, Youngjae. There’s a storm coming.” And Daehyun is right again. Somewhere miles and miles away, thunder rolls in anticipation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Echoes (when the sea is muted)

The sea rushes around his legs, climbing up to his back and curling around his shoulders. The water is comfortable, still grasping onto the last remnants of warmth it had absorbed from the sun during the day. Now, however, the darkness mutes the world, banking on the early hours of a dawn yet to come. The night here is complete, more permanent than that of the city that Youngjae has spent all his life in. He has the map of the city memorized as if it’s drawn in the lines on his palms, but the sea is a blissful unknown.

 

The waves are slowly carrying him out into the open waters, farther from safety and the small cabin Yongguk had rented for them, but Youngjae doesn’t make a move to swim back to shore. He closes his eyes and tries to remember how to breathe. It is humid to the point that it feels as if his lungs are dragging in more vaporized water than oxygen. Somewhere miles and miles away, thunder rolls in anticipation. The air is still, so heavy that Youngjae thinks even the stars look tired, weary with the weight of the universe.

 

It’s one of those summer days when Youngjae can’t sleep, when the heat is so pressing that it’s crept into the very marrow of his bones and feels like lead. He’ll be exhausted in the morning, and Yongguk will probably be disappointed to have his plans ruined, but it’s too much to bear. Tonight, the warmth of another body next to Youngjae’s under shared sheets is oppressive.

 

The beach is silent save for the gentle lapping of waves on the sand. Youngjae hums quietly to himself, and lets the sea take him out where it will. Youngjae doesn’t want to return. He doesn’t want to go back to knowing only the stink of pollution and the heat waves emanating from black concrete. He doesn’t want to stitch himself into suits and tighten nooses around his neck in the form of ties. He also doesn’t want to go back to the realization that he can no longer see Yongguk as someone to love. Youngjae knows that Yongguk feels it, too, the distance between them. It hurts to know that the rift is all on Youngjae’s part.

 

A small splash is all the warning Youngjae has before he feels something warm and human wrapping carefully around his ankle. He flails, kicking in sudden panic and feels himself sinking into the water. He’s farther from shore than he had expected, far enough that the water is nearly thirty feet deep, and shallow coral reefs reach toward the surface. The world tilts again, and Youngjae registers human arms encircling his waist and guiding him to a cluster of large, water-smoothed rocks. The rocks are tall enough that Youngjae can sit on their surface with his shoulders still out of the water. He turns wildly as soon as he secures himself on the rock, and finds a boy bobbing in the water near the reef.

 

“You have a beautiful voice,” the boy pipes up. He swims closer, supporting himself on one of the lower rocks.

 

“Thanks,” Youngjae stutters out after he manages to collect his bearings. “You scared me.”

 

The boy has the decency to look guilty. “Sorry. I didn’t really know how else to approach you. I’m Daehyun, by the way.”

 

“It’s alright. Next time, just call out my name. It’s Youngjae,” he advises. Daehyun grins. “So then, what are you doing here in the middle of the night?”

 

Youngjae takes a moment to look over Daehyun. The moon, though clear, casts too many shadows and illuminates too little. Youngjae can make out a handsomely curved face, soft edges and large lips. Daehyun’s hair is flat, plastered to his head with the bangs cutting into his eyes. Locks of his hair channel drops of water that slide down his nose and uplifted cheeks, glinting dully in the moonlight. Daehyun is beautiful, Youngjae thinks, even with what little can be seen.

 

Daehyun hesitates, but the pause goes unnoticed by Youngjae, so lost in admiring the boy before him. “Going for a swim. What are _you_ doing?”

 

Youngjae smiles in amusement. “Going for a float.”

 

“Fair enough.” There is another pause. “So, do you come from—” Daehyun gestures widely to the shore. “over there?”

 

“Yeah. Well, no. I live in Seoul, but we’re here on vacation,” Youngjae explains. The horizon is just barely lightening in color. Youngjae holds back a yawn.

 

“Seoul? We?”

 

“You know, Seoul. The capital. We, my boyfriend and I.”

 

“Oh,” Daehyun exaggerates the syllable. “What’s it like on the land?” He’s curious, that much Youngjae can tell, but he doesn’t see what there is to be curious about. Youngjae honestly thinks that Daehyun’s question is a bit silly, but his tongue is loose, this late—or early—in the day.

 

“Stifling,” Youngjae declares after some thought. “It’s smelly and tiring and gloomy. Here, though. Here, I feel like I can breathe a little easier.”

 

Daehyun tilts his head. “I guess it’s nice here. But sometimes it gets a little stiff, too.”

 

“Have you been here all your life?”

 

Daehyun hums in acquiescence. “I’ve never gone any further than this sea. It gets lonely. There are a lot of people, but none of them really come out this far.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Nothing,” Daehyun brushes the question away with a wave of his hand. “So, what do you do?”

 

Daehyun is hard to keep up with, Youngjae finds. “I’m an accountant.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

If it weren’t nearing dawn, with a sleepless night stretching in his wake and a sleepless day ahead of him, perhaps Youngjae would have questioned why Daehyun knew so little. As it is, Youngjae attributes Daehyun’s bizarre questions to a country-boy thing, and doesn’t give it a second thought.

 

“It’s someone who counts money,” he responds vaguely, simply.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because companies need to know that their finances are in order.”

 

“Oh. I get it.” By the scarce light of the now pink sky, Youngjae can tell that Daehyun doesn’t really understand, with the way his nose wrinkles slightly, but Youngjae decides to let it be. “Is it fun?”

 

Now it’s Youngjae who scrunches up his nose, in distaste. “Not at all.”

 

“Then, why do you do it?”

 

“Because it pays good money.”

 

Daehyun, who doesn’t really understand at all, frowns and changes subjects. “You sing very nicely. Do you like to sing?”

 

“Yeah. Sometimes.”

 

“Me, too,” Daehyun seconds.

 

“Maybe you can sing for me next time.”

 

“I can sing now,” he suggests. Youngjae is already shaking his head before Daehyun even finishes the sentence.

 

“It’s almost morning. I think it’s time I go back to Yongguk, or he’ll wonder where I am.”

 

“Who’s Yongguk?”

 

“My boyfriend.” Youngjae slides off the rock and turns in the direction of the beach.

 

“Oh.” Daehyun mimics Youngjae, lowering himself into the sea until only his eyes are above water. He blows bubbles from his nose. “I’ll see you later, then. Be careful, Youngjae. There’s a storm coming.”

 

Youngjae nods in thanks and pushes off the rock, swimming smoothly toward shore. Daehyun watches him until Youngjae becomes just a mere speck in the distance, and then dives into the water in a glittering flash of blue-green scales.

 

*

 

Yongguk is understanding. He always is, Youngjae knows, and hates himself for it. Yongguk prepares some toast and slathers jam onto it, and serves it to Youngjae alongside a cup of chamomile tea with half a teaspoon of brown cane sugar. Yongguk knows Youngjae from the inside out, and Youngjae, in comparison, knows nothing at all. Youngjae forces himself to give Yongguk a passionate thank-you kiss for breakfast, and then curls up in the bed with guilt rising like bile in his throat. Yongguk leaves to try and learn to surf for a while and give Youngjae enough peace for a nap.

 

Youngjae wakes to the chorus of a strong wind and an eerie song. When he looks outside, he finds that the world on the other side of the window has taken a one-eighty degree turn. It’s dark, almost as gray as twilight, but the alarm clock on the bedside table reads barely three in the afternoon. Yongguk is curled up in an old armchair, reading a large novel by the soft light cast from a nearby lamp.

 

“What is that?” Youngjae mumbles groggily. He’s trying to focus on the singing he can hear, but every time he tries, the sound disappears completely.

 

“What is what?” Yongguk asks, confused.

 

“That singing.”

 

Yongguk’s eyebrows furrow. “What singing?”

 

“You don’t hear it?”

 

“No.”

 

“Huh. Must be the wind.” But Youngjae is sure that it’s not. There’s a distinct difference between the whining of the wind and the low, melodious undertone of the singing. The song has no words that Youngjae can make out, but the voice is smooth, slow, and deliberate.

 

Youngjae stumbles out of the bed and shuffles to the window. It’s raining hard, and thick water droplets pound against the glass as Youngjae pulls the curtains aside to peer out.

 

“It’s really pouring out there,” Yongguk comments unnecessarily. The sky grumbles and lights up the Earth with a flash.

 

Youngjae hums absentmindedly, but otherwise gives no response. He wants to go outside. The singing swells along with the storm and Youngjae can hear the crashing of the ocean waves in his ears. For a minute, it’s all Youngjae can hear. There’s another clap of thunder, and Youngjae snaps out of his daze, overwhelmed by sudden nausea. He grabs the curtains to support himself, but then sinks to his knees helplessly.

 

Yongguk is there instantly, pushing Youngjae’s hair out of his face and cupping his cheeks with cool hands.

 

“Youngjae, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

 

The nausea clears almost as quickly as it had come onto him. Youngjae stands up shakily with Yongguk supporting his weight.

 

“I’m fine. Just felt really sick all of a sudden. It’s okay now.”

 

Yongguk helps him to the bathroom, and Youngjae washes his face, clutching onto the edge of the sink with one hand. He stares at the water swirling down the drain and mouths out a word. _Daehyun._

 

*

 

By the next morning, the storm has dissipated into a clean sky and a sweltering sun, and the thunder and lightning of the day before is a mere memory. Youngjae goes snorkeling with Yongguk, plays volleyball with a team of locals, and eats at an open-air café. By the time the sun has set, both he and Yongguk are thoroughly relaxed, but exhausted. Yongguk is the first to return to the cabin, after Youngjae tells him he’d like to enjoy the cool air a little longer.

 

Youngjae waits. Five minutes, then ten, and fifteen, and then he swims out a little into the sea, just far enough that he can still stand with his head above the surface. Daehyun appears almost immediately.

 

“Youngjae,” he exclaims happily.

 

“Hi.” Youngjae smiles. It’s not as dark tonight, and this close to shore there are still a few lanterns that carry a vague glow over the water. The sea is colder now, though, the aftermath of a vicious storm. Youngjae slowly backs toward the sand.

 

“I missed you!”

 

“It’s only been a day and a half, Daehyun,” Youngjae remarks.

 

“But it was a very lonely day and a half. I liked talking to you.”

 

“Why don’t you talk to me during the day?”

 

“Because you’re always with—others,” Daehyun says quietly.

 

“You mean Yongguk? I can introduce you to him. We can all be friends.”

 

But Daehyun scowls. “I don’t like him.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because you don’t like him, either. Do you?”

 

Youngjae is at a loss for words. “Of course I do. He’s my boyfriend.”

 

“No,” Daehyun says simply, and that’s the end of that.

 

They’re so close to the beach now that Youngjae is standing only waist deep in the water. Daehyun, on the other hand, continues to swim, hidden from the neck down. The light of the lanterns from nearby cafés illuminate them more, and Youngjae suddenly notices that Daehyun’s skin glitters rather unnaturally. Youngjae reaches for Daehyun’s chin, but the boy shies away, eyes wary.

 

“Your skin. It’s sparkling.” Youngjae mumbles in surprise, and goes for Daehyun’s chin again. This time Daehyun lets him.

 

Youngjae turns the boy’s face to the side to see better. The skin along his hairline isn’t really skin. It’s something smooth, cool to the touch as Youngjae swipes his thumb over it. Youngjae realizes with a start that it’s scales. They’re nearly paper thin and the same, lightly bronzed color as the rest of Daehyun’s skin, but feel entirely different.

 

Youngjae lets go of Daehyun’s face as if he’s been burned. Daehyun stares at him, eyes dark and just a bit dangerous. There is a splash, and Youngjae sees a large, thick tail rise from the place he would have expected Daehyun’s legs to be. The tail is not the same color as Daehyun’s skin, but rather a deep blue-green that matches the exact color of the sea.

 

“Shit.” Youngjae blanches. “You’re not exactly human.” There’s panic bubbling in his chest, raw and alive, but he’s also awed, wondering.

 

Daehyun watches him carefully, probably to see if Youngjae is about to bolt. Youngjae doesn’t think he is, but then Daehyun grins, happily, and Youngjae sees that his teeth are now razor-sharp incisors.

 

“I, uh. I think I need a moment to figure this all out. I’ll, um. See you tomorrow night, I guess.” Youngjae bolts.

 

*

 

Youngjae is sure he won’t be sleeping tonight. He lies awake for all of an hour before he hears the singing again. It’s different this time, no longer the chilling, beckoning tune of the stormy evening, but instead, a lullaby. The voice is the same, yet much gentler, kinder, and soothing. It’s clearer, too, unobstructed by weather. Youngjae falls asleep to this song in minutes.

 

*

 

“I didn’t think you’d actually come,” Daehyun says carefully.

 

Youngjae hadn’t thought so either, but he’s here, unexpected as it is. Youngjae is sitting on wet sand, watching as the tides flow over his toes, and recede. Daehyun has come to him, this time, upper body supported by his arms as his tail lies still behind him, not even half submerged in water. Like this, Youngjae can see that there are scales up and down his spine, snaking irregularly over his ribcage in shimmering glory. The color of Daehyun’s scales change the farther down they are, from the toffee hue of his body blending into a light blue, then green, then dark turquoise all the way to his tail in a beautiful ombr _é_.

 

“So, you’re a mermaid. Man.” Youngjae shrugs. “That’s kind of cool. Wasn’t really expecting that, but it’s still cool.”

 

Daehyun is silent for a while, and then he laughs, overjoyed. Youngjae sees that his teeth are shaped normally, like a human’s. “Just don’t show anyone else.”

 

“Of course.”

 

Daehyun pulls himself closer to Youngjae, and tucks his chin into his palms. They stare at each other, waiting for one or the other to make the first move. Naturally, Youngjae breaks first, and reaches for Daehyun’s spine in curiosity. He hesitates at the last second.

 

“Can I touch you?”

 

Daehyun nods slowly, and Youngjae catches the minute way his whole body tenses up in apprehension. The scales on Daehyun’s back are firmer, and feel like polished marble under his fingertips. Youngjae strokes them tentatively, breath caught in his throat as he watches Daehyun mold to his touch, craving.

 

“You’re beautiful,” he says, and means it. Daehyun immediately pulls away, shy. Youngjae smiles fondly. “You promised you’d sing for me,” he recalls.

 

“I did,” Daehyun acknowledges. He sits up, maneuvering so that his tail is right in front of him. Then, he sings.

 

Youngjae knows this voice, knows it all too well. It’s the same voice he had heard the night before, and the evening with the storm. Up close, it is strong and confident, and seems to take up all the space in the air. Youngjae feels drawn to Daehyun. Daehyun is all soft curves and slopes and passionate music. Youngjae closes his eyes and leans back into the still sun-heated sand, and allows himself breathe. The heaviness by the sea is suddenly so much lighter.

 

*

 

“I’m leaving soon, Daehyun.” Youngjae tells him, many days later. His and Yongguk’s vacation is indeed coming to the end of its designated two weeks. Youngjae has the remainder of this night and tomorrow night, and is set to leave early the morning after. “This is probably the second to last time that I’ll see you.”

 

“Leaving? What do you mean?” Daehyun stops building sand castles with the tiny pail and shovel Youngjae had acquired from somewhere earlier that day.

 

“I’m going home. To Seoul,” Youngjae explains.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because that’s where I live.”

 

“Then, why are you here in the first place?” Daehyun questions, uncomprehending.

 

“Because I’m on a break. I wanted to relax, so I went away from home. Now Yongguk and I have to go back.”

 

“Why can’t you stay?”

 

Youngjae sighs. “I want to. I really do, believe me. But to stay here, I need to have money. To have money, I have to work. To work, I need to be close to my job. So I have to go back home.”

 

“Okay.” But Daehyun doesn’t really understand. “Youngjae, do you like me?” he tries.

 

Youngjae grins. “Of course.” His fingers flit gently over Daehyun’s eyebrows, smoothing out the furrows he had made out of confusion. Daehyun leans into the touch and his eyelashes brush against Youngjae’s thumb as he closes his eyes.

 

“Then stay. Stay here, with me.”

 

Youngjae shakes his head. A breeze picks up, whipping locks of his brown hair over his face. “I can’t.”

 

“Why not?” Daehyun demands. He’s angry, just a little bit. He can feel how his teeth are sharpening, reforming into dangerous blades.

 

“Because I have Yongguk—”

 

“You don’t like Yongguk.”

 

Youngjae purses his lips. They are parched, bleached by the hot sun to a barely-there pink. He doesn’t respond to Daehyun’s indignant statement, because he knows it’s true. He shakes his head again. “No, Daehyun,” he says, tone final.

 

Youngjae rises, brushing sand off the seat of his swimming trunks. He washes his feet in the incoming waves and slips a pair of sandals on while Daehyun watches solemnly.

 

“I have to go now, Daehyun. I’ll see you again tomorrow.”

 

There is no rolling thunder in the distance tonight. Still, Daehyun warns, “Be careful, Youngjae. There’s a storm coming.”

 

*

 

Daehyun is right again. The storm begins late the next evening, after the sun has set. The clouds descend upon the Earth like a million crows, and the wind howls like a pack of wolves. Youngjae feels his hair stand on end from one look outside, and quickly draws the curtains closed. There’s no way to see Daehyun in this weather.

 

The train back to Seoul leaves early in the morning, so Yongguk packs up everything but the very essentials the night before. He keeps a small duffle bag empty into which they’ll shove their toothbrushes and a few other knickknacks in the morning. They crawl into bed early on as well, and fall asleep to the sound of rain lashing against their window angrily.

 

Youngjae wakes several hours later, just after midnight. He really isn’t sure why, but then he hears singing. _Daehyun_ is singing. Youngjae slips out of bed, following the sound. The wordless tune is calling to him, pushing him to see Daehyun once more, to at least bid him a proper goodbye.

 

The storm hasn’t ceased in the least. Youngjae is barefoot, dressed in a threadbare cotton shirt and boxers, and the rain soaks him in seconds. It’s cold, and Youngjae thinks he shivers, but he isn’t sure. He’s not really sure of much right now, just that he wants to see Daehyun. He _needs_ to see Daehyun.

 

The waves are high, and have swallowed up nearly the entire beach. The sea is raging, thrashing against the wind and anything that stands in its way. Still, Youngjae spots Daehyun instantly. In the middle of the turmoil, as water froths and foams around him, Daehyun sits calmly, mouth open in song. Youngjae stumbles a little, reaching for the boy, and Daehyun catches him deftly. There are scales climbing over his arms now, encroaching on his shoulders and over his stomach, expanding right under Youngjae’s gaze. His teeth are pointed, like knives hidden by soft lips.

 

Youngjae feels the urge to scream erupt in his chest, but his lips aren’t moving. There’s panic building somewhere inside, and yet his body isn’t reacting the way he wants it to. _Get away get away get away_.

 

“Youngjae, stay with me,” Daehyun whispers. The ocean is roiling around them, but Youngjae catches the words easily as Daehyun leans close. His breath tickles Youngjae’s ear. When he pulls back, Daehyun’s eyes are a molten gold, glowing, and his scales are darkening to blue all around. They are still crawling over the remainder of his skin like a disease, but Daehyun doesn’t seem affected.

 

Daehyun plunges into the water, eager, with Youngjae in his arms. He swims from the shore, deeper, deeper, to show Youngjae how much nicer it is here. It’s calmer in the depths of the sea. Everything from outside is muted, but Daehyun can still sing. He’ll sing with Youngjae, together. They will live in the sea forever.

 

Daehyun realizes too late that Youngjae’s body has gone limp.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my writing, please consider leaving me a small tip on my [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/jezzberry)


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